We fall

The world is lonely, dark, and steep,
And I have miles before I sleep
With You.

What makes a good man?
What makes a soul who stands before the hateful hordes and says
"I shall not let you pass."
How crass!
To presume a man could be more than a man could be.

Silence is the devil's friend,
The devil's end,
The means of which are man.
Are me.
To You.
To All of You.

What makes a good man?
What makes a soul who stops the tyranny of fear and says
"I am the cure to your grim taint."
How quaint!
To presume a man might be more than a man might be.

I'll acquiesce to siren's song,
I'll listen, watch, and do no wrong
But wait while days bring tears and blood
And shattered picture frames of You.
I'll sit and sigh and wish to be
The saint inside I thought to free:
Another victim. You.
And me?
I am an ancient, rotted tree
With ropes and fleshy weights.

I did not damn those men to die,
But I did not protest the noose.
My branch, my sword, my silence.

What makes a good man?
What makes a soul who decides he shall watch no more and says
"I shall not accept defeat."
How sweet.
To presume a man would be more than a man would be.

I am no good man.
I am no dreamer.
I am no sleeper, with arms of peace wrapped around the bare shoulders of the world.
I have no strength to shelter You.
I have no wits to guide You.
I have no courage to ask for You, fight for You, die for You.
I have no You.

I have miles before I sleep.

If I sleep

Will I rest in peace?

What makes a good man?
What makes a soul who thinks on love and says
"I shall not stand alone."

I shall not stand, at all.
Helpless, we stand.
So united

We fall